Crimson
by alwayssmilingsam
Summary: "A sensible woman would have worn black". The history of the Crimson dress and Nikola and Helen's first meeting.
1. Chapter 1

**Chartruesian pointed out that I had not done a Helen/Nikola meeting fic as yet and in her ever so polite way suggested I might like to do one. Well my sweet here is the start of it for you. I would love to hear if you enjoyed - it never fails to make me smile.**

Helen opened her wardrobe and surveyed the dresses within its confines. All perfectly lovely, sensible dresses in demure, serviceable colours and then there was the crimson dress. It had remained on its hanger for nearly two years now, mocking her every time she opened the doors. To this day she did not know what had possessed her to commission such a frivolous gown, the colour, while lovely, was completely impractical. The cut was is no way revealing yet hugged her curves in a way that showed her true femininity. It had been a spontaneous decision she had regretted many times yet the gown remained hanging there just waiting for the right time to see the light of day.

Helen reached for her most demure black dress, it was the perfect choice for her first day at Oxford. She had longed to attend the institution of higher education for years and every year she applied she was sent a letter politely thanking her for her application but Oxford was an institution for young men serious about expanding their knowledge. And every year when she received the letter her blood boiled.

Until this year. This year the letter was slightly different. A friend of her fathers had taken over as the Dean of Students and had managed to convince the Dean on her behalf that she should be allowed to audit classes. She would never know of the markers her father had called in or the money he had paid to get his colleague to make the recommendation and she would never know of the conversation that has taken place between the Deans about the tenacity of Gregory Magnus and if his daughter was anything like her father she would keep applying until either the school gave in or she died. In the end the Deans had decided to make an example of her, because surely she would not last more than a semester. She would meet some young scholar and be married and having babies by the years end, just as she should be and then the next time some foolish woman decided to apply to the great institution they could use Miss Magnus as an example of why women in universities was a spectacularly bad idea.

Helen sat at her dressing table and began the tedious task of doing her hair. She wondered what the day would bring, she was not naive enough to believe that she would easily be accepted among the male scholars but she did hope that there may be a few men who would readily accept that a woman could use her brain in the same manner as a man. Uncertainty began to plague her, what if there were no such men there, and if there were, what if she could not identify them?

It was during the moment of uncertainty that her eye caught the black dress lying on the bed. The dress was practical and what the deans would expect her to wear. In the black dress she would blend in, her femininity would not be as obvious. But was that what she truly wanted? Was that who she truly was?

The answer came at her in a blinding flash of light. She was Helen Magnus and proud of it. Helen Magnus was not a shrinking violet who tried to blend in, what better way to discover who the more forward thinking scholars were than by standing out in the crowd and seeing who was brave enough to approach her.

She finished the intricate hairdo and added her mother's diamond earrings and walked over to the black dress on the bed and promptly placed it back in the wardrobe. Without a moment's hesitation or second thoughts she removed the crimson dress and finished the ensemble with her good walking out boots. She didn't dare glance at her appearance lest she change her mind before leaving the safety of her bedchamber.

A minute later she entered the morning room a plate of toast was just being placed in front of her when her father entered. Anyone who didn't know Gregory Magnus would not have even noticed the moment's hesitation he made entering the room or the slight arch to his eyebrow but Helen was finely tuned to her father's every nuance.

"Good morning father."

"Good morning my dear, you look particularly lovely this morning. Is there any particular reason you are dressed so…beautifully this morning?"

"Father you know as well as I do that I begin auditing classes at Oxford today." Helen said with a smile.

"Indeed. I thought that was today, yet you look dressed for high tea."

Helen sighed and began having second thoughts about her attire but before she could excuse herself to go and change her father interrupted her thoughts.

"If however, you have dressed in such a manner to make sure every scholar there realises you are the first woman to walk their hallowed halls and as such are planning to use you femininity to your advantage and weed out only those who are worthy of spending time with you – well then I applaud your strategy."

Helen smiled, her father always knew exactly the right thing to say.

"I shall let you know how my plan unfolds." Helen rose to leave the breakfast room and placed a kiss on her father's cheek.

"Oh I look forward to it." Gregory gently grasped his only child's hand. "Remember Helen, You are twice as smart as any man attending the institution, those that recognise and accept that fact unconditionally, they will be your true peers."

"Thank you father." Helen squeezed his hand and turned to begin her new life as an Oxford scholar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the long wait for this - the muse was around however the time was not. Thankyou to everyone who reviewed this story - they truly make me smile.**

Nikola rose early that first morning of his new life. He was no longer the impoverished son of a Serbian minister but a fully-fledged Oxford scholar. He knew that he would not be accepted as the equal of those attending the historic university, his ethnicity and accent assured him of that. However, he was just as certain that he would have no equal within the walls when it came to intelligence, which made his attendance somewhat disheartening.

Nikola knew there was very little Oxford would be able to teach him, but he also knew that without a degree form it's hallowed walls he would never be taken seriously, so here he was preparing for four years of utter boredom. As he completed his morning ablutions he hoped there was at least one person he could tolerate and was somewhere in the vicinity of his intellectual equal. He sighed, who was he kidding, there wasn't going to be anyone close to his intellectual equal which automatically made them all intolerable.

An hour later Nikola wandered from his dormitory to his first lecture. During the walk he caught a glimpse of a vision in crimson. Rarely in his life had a woman's looks captured his attention. He was aware of women in as much as they existed and played a vital role in the propagation of the species but up until this point that is where his interest ended. The woman in pink though, there was something about her that captured his attention and it was not just the way she stood out in the sea of black suits.

Before Nikola could determine her destination she had disappeared. He sighed knowing it was unlikely he would ever see her again and even if he did, she was no doubt the wife of one of the professors or scholars.

Half an hour later Nikola slipped into the back of the lecture theatre. He hadn't planned to be late to his very first lecture – the rest perhaps – but even he knew he should make an effort for the first one. He had however, been completely entranced by the vision in pink and had wasted time trying to catch another glimpse of her. It was only as he slipped into one of the rear seats of the lecture hall that he caught a glimpse of pink in his peripheral vision. He turned and stared.

Sitting beside him was the very woman in crimson he had seen earlier in the day, and if possible she was even more breathtaking up close than she had been at a distance. She had yet to realise there was anyone sitting next to her, let alone studying her intently, she was far too busy copying down all the nonsensical ramblings of the old windbag at the front of the room.

The lecturer finally finished speaking and the goddess began to pack her notes and quills away in a brand new leather satchel. Nickola continued sitting next to her playing with his fingernails as he had felt no compulsion to make any notes on the old man's theories, knowing they were completely incorrect.

As the young woman placed the last of her papers in the satchel and clipped it shut she turned to the young man sitting next to her. "Perhaps next time you are tardy to a lecture you might consider taking down your own notes rather than just reading mine." She said tartly.

Nikola grinned. She was beautiful and had a fire within her.

"I don't feel compelled to take notes on theories that are so woefully incorrect." Nikola told her boldly. Whatever reaction he had been trying to evoke, he was completely unprepared for the one he received.

Helen sighed in relief. "They are aren't they, I thought perhaps it was me, that I was out of my depth here, but as I wrote I knew I could disprove most of what was being said."

If possible Nikola's grin became wider. Beautiful and brilliant. He had a feeling he may have just found his kindred spirit. He held out his hand. "Nikola Tesla". He introduced himself.

Helen's smile matched his. "Helen Magnus." She thrust her own hand forward.

"Well, Helen Magnus I have a feeling that we are going to become good friends."

"And what makes you say that Mr Tesla?" She challenged.

"Perhaps I could interest you in some tea and we could discuss the terms of our friendship?"

Helen looked closely at the well-dressed man with the European accent and sensed there was something about him, sensed that their lives were meant to be entwined. "I would enjoy that very much Mr Tesla." Helen smiled as she took his offered arm.

"Please, call me Nikola."

"And you must call me Helen." Helen realised as they walked from the lecture hall that he intended to walk all the way to the tea rooms with her arm tucked firmly in his. "Mr Tesla, I would completely understand if you would prefer me to meet you at the tea room."

"Why on earth would I want to rob myself of your charming company?" He stated emphatically.

"Being seen escorting me through the grounds, well it's hardly going to enhance your reputation with the other scholars."

"On the contrary, I have the distinct feeling that when the other scholars find out there is a brilliant mind hiding inside that beautiful body of yours, that they will all be quite jealous that you only have eyes for me." He teased.

Helen laughed, a full rich sound that was music to Nikola's ears. "Mr Tesla I get the distinct impression that between lectures and studying I am going to spend my time fending off your advances".

"Perhaps. But then again maybe you will come to the conclusion that rebuffing me is counterproductive to our true purpose."

"And what purpose might that be?" Helen asked, enjoying the battle of wits with this man.

"You see Miss Magnus, I believe that we are destined to be together." Nikola leaned in close and whispered, "eventually you will come to the same conclusion and give in to my advances." He laughed at her shocked expression.

"Don't hold your breath." She smiled at him liking him more by the minute. She was drawn to people who spoke their mind. "Now I believe you offered tea to cement our newfound friendship?"

Nikola lead her into the teahouse frequented by Oxford scholars, thinking that perhaps his time at Oxford was going to be more interesting than he ever thought possible.


End file.
